


love notes in the kitchen

by thelittlebirdthattoldyou



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Restaurant, Epistolary, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Humor, M/M, Misunderstandings, POV Alternating, POV Outsider, but like not in an angsty way, seijoh shenanigans 2: electric boogaloo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:42:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25682983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelittlebirdthattoldyou/pseuds/thelittlebirdthattoldyou
Summary: And as far as these things go, the idea isn’t so unthinkable. Oikawa is a famous gourmand. Seijoh is a well-known hotspot for gourmet Japanese food, and Iwaizumi has been interviewed for quite a few publications on account of his success. It would be weirder if neither of them had ever heard of each other than if they had.They’re both young and successful and - Kindaichi’s face heats up - rather attractive, at that. No wonder.Iwaizumi-sanlikesOikawa-san. Maybe has for some time now.Where Iwaizumi owns a restaurant, and Oikawa is the food critic who keeps on coming in.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 50
Kudos: 328





	love notes in the kitchen

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Myrin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Myrin/gifts).



> for myrin, whose comments mean the world to me and who [requested](https://thelittlebirdthattoldyou.tumblr.com/post/625400840262451200/hi-its-me-the-person-with-the-long-comments-i) established relationship & outsider pov for iwaoi. i adore both those tropes, and i was all too happy to type something up for you as thanks for the brilliant comments. to be honest, i rewrote this three times because i just couldn’t get it to where i wanted, but i think it paid off! i’m really happy with the final product, at any rate.
> 
> also, i noticed that all my fics so far have been canon compliant or canon divergent, so here’s an au for once. xx
> 
> title from “lucky people” by waterparks, which is The Cutest Song Ever.

Kindaichi thinks it’s weird that Iwaizumi-san doesn’t make his own lunches. The man runs his own restaurant - two restaurants, ever since the second location, Seijoh, opened up a few months ago - so it’s not like it would be hard for him. But maybe he gets sick of cooking after spending the entirety of his days in the kitchen. Or maybe it’s just nice knowing that you have someone at home who cares enough to do it for you.

Either way, Kindaichi is glad to see him take out the homemade bentos, lovingly wrapped in colorful print pouches, as soon as his thirty minute lunch break rolls around every day. He hasn’t known him for long - not like Kunimi, who used to work at Iwaizumi’s first restaurant before moving to the second to be closer to his university - but he’s already developed a healthy respect for the man. And lately Iwaizumi-san has been more stressed than ever, bowing under the pressure that comes with maintaining high-quality food and satisfying customers and publicizing two restaurants on opposite ends of Tokyo.

So it’s good that he has someone, maybe a wife or girlfriend, at home who’s willing to take care of him.

That is, until the bentos stop coming. One day, without a word, Iwaizumi shows up to work without the familiar animal-print satchel in hand, and he looks more frayed around the edges than usual. A little needle of sadness stabs through Kindaichi at the sight, because he can’t believe Iwaizumi’s girlfriend would break up with him now, when he already has so much else to worry about. And he can’t believe anyone would break up with Iwaizumi at all, what with how hardworking and strong and determined -

Okay. So maybe Kindaichi is a little biased.

But the bentos stop coming, and the bags under Iwaizumi’s eyes grow darker day by day, and Kindaichi wishes more than ever that he could do something to help. He’s only a waiter, though, and a recent hire at that, and his boss’s personal life isn’t supposed to be any of his business. He wouldn’t know where to start, even if it was.

He tries to make things easier around the restaurant in other ways. He asks the other cooks - sous chef Matsukawa, pastry chef Hanamaki, and even the somewhat homicidal-looking butcher, Kyoutani - whether he can fetch anything for them when they’re cooking. He memorizes the layout of the dining room and familiarizes himself with how the tables are numbered, so he can make his way around more easily.

Kunimi, who has never volunteered to take on a single task that isn’t in his job description, starts looking at him askance, but Kindaichi doesn’t mind. Iwaizumi smiles at him on occasion, ruffles his hair and thanks him with relief evident in his voice, and that’s reward enough for him. Anyway, it’s all good practice for when he opens his own restaurant someday.

“Yoo-hoo, Yahaba-chan!” Oikawa calls out, leaning back in his desk chair to shout to his assistant where he’s seated outside the door to Oikawa’s office. “Get me a large caramel frappé from that place down the street?”

Yahaba sighs as he stands and makes his way into Oikawa’s office. He crosses his arms. “How many times do I have to tell you that I’m your secretary, not your errand boy?” he asks. “Besides, we have perfectly fine coffee in the break room.”

Oikawa groans and throws one arm over his eyes in typical melodramatic fashion. “Ah, the betrayal! I’m a food columnist - how can they expect me to drink that swill?” He clasps his hands in front of his chest and swivels to Yahaba with pleading eyes. “Please, Yahaba-chan? Think of it as a reward for how hard I’ve been working lately.”

That much is true, at least. Their circulation has been declining recently, and editor-in-chief Sawamura has had to make cuts to nonessential departments. The food and entertainment section, where he and Oikawa work, was hit hard, and Oikawa’s taken on the assignments of some of their former coworkers. He’s been handling it with minimal complaint because, as Yahaba has learned, Oikawa is one of those people who will work themselves to death before he admits to needing help.

So, fine, Yahaba relents. He’ll buy Oikawa the sugary coffee drinks he wants from all the pretentious cafés he wants, even if they are ridiculously overpriced.

Oikawa beams at him and fishes out his wallet, handing over a stack of yen. “Go get yourself something, too,” he says. “My treat.”

It takes Yahaba ten minutes to walk down the street to the café, buy the coffee, and return to his desk. He’s armed with Oikawa’s frappé along with a hot chocolate for himself because while he hates the taste of coffee, he does have a weakness for sweet things.

Oikawa makes grabby hands at Yahaba when he spots the cups in his hand, and he downs half of the coffee in one sip as soon as it’s handed to him. Yahaba rolls his eyes and waits out his boss’s antics.

“You’re a godsend, Yahaba-chan,” Oikawa says with a pleased sigh.

“You’re welcome, Oikawa-san,” Yahaba says. He starts to leave, but Oikawa stops him.

“How about I treat you to dinner as thanks?” he asks. “There’s a new place that opened up a few months ago I’ve been wanting to try.”

Huh. That’s unusual. Oikawa actually sounds… happy about a new assignment for once. Sawamura-san has got him running to so many restaurants around town that the novelty of each one is long worn off, and his reviews have only gotten harsher as a result. It’s not every day that he can muster up the energy to be enthused about a destination.

Thrown for a loop, Yahaba asks, “Is this one special for some reason?”

Oikawa smiles. “It’s Seijoh. Iwa-chan’s new restaurant,” he says, and that’s all the information Yahaba needs.

He doesn’t know much about Oikawa’s personal life, but everyone in the office has heard him gush about his boyfriend Iwaizumi at least once before. It’s almost become something of a game. None of them can escape hearing about it, so whenever it happens, they’ve started timing how long Oikawa rambles on for. So far the record is an eleven minute and fifty-two second monologue dedicated to Iwaizumi’s biceps. It’s held by a long-suffering Sugawara who was too nice to ask Oikawa to leave him alone.

Yahaba also knows, however, that Oikawa only overshares as much as he does because he misses Iwaizumi. Because he’s been staying at the office late far too many times over the past few weeks. So this - getting to review his boyfriend’s restaurant and visit him there? It’s only natural that he would be excited.

“Are you sure you want me to come along?” Yahaba asks.

“Why wouldn’t I? Maybe it’s time that my poor hardworking assistant and my poor hardworking Iwa-chan meet each other.”

“All right. I’ll check your calendar and make a reservation.”

“Ah, organized as usual. Run along, then. And thanks for the coffee!”

Yahaba bows and makes his exit.

_Iwa-chan,_

_Please eat this bento with love and appreciation! I think it may be the last I make for you for a while. Dai-chan is really being too mean, keeping me away from my loving boyfriend for so long!_

_I love you. (Say it back, I’ll know if you don’t!)_

_Oikawa_

* * *

Today is probably the worst day possible for Iwaizumi to be called out of the restaurant, so it’s only natural that that’s exactly when it happens. He gets a call late in the morning from Kageyama, who was appointed to run the first restaurant, Aoba Johsai, in Iwaizumi’s absence. Kindaichi can hear him ranting on the other end of the phone. He sounds panicked.

Iwaizumi is scowling by the time he hangs up. He orders Matsukawa to take his place for the time being, and he tells them to limit the balcony seating area so they won’t have to contend with as many customers while he’s gone.

“Wait, Iwaizumi-san,” Kindaichi says as he’s on his way out the door. “What about - uh, what about Oikawa-san?"

Iwaizumi snorts. “He likes to think he’s so special. We get critics all the time, so don’t worry about him.”

Kindaichi, even with his limited background knowledge of Oikawa Tooru, isn’t convinced. But Iwaizumi is preoccupied, muttering under his breath and searching wildly for his keys, so Kindaichi lets him go.

He’s about to head back to the kitchen when someone grabs his arm. It’s Watari, their ever-smiling host. Except he’s not smiling now; he looks focused, preparing himself to conduct the guests smoothly for the rest of the night without Iwaizumi there.

“Kindaichi, I’m assigning you to cover Oikawa-san’s table tonight.”

Kindaichi blinks. “What? Why me?”

“You and Kunimi have the best track record here, and Kunimi isn’t exactly the most personable. We need to make a good impression.”

That much is true, at least. Oikawa Tooru is the boogeyman of the Tokyo gourmet scene. No one knows much about him, but every restaurant worker in the city is well-acquainted with his sharp, scathing wit. His words are reprinted in every major newspaper and travel guide in the city; some people say a five-star review from him is rarer than a Michelin.

Which is why it’s odd that Iwaizumi is so dismissive of his visit.

Kindaichi’s palms start to sweat, and he wipes them on his apron. He checks the time. It’s a quarter to six, which is when Oikawa’s reservation was made for. He must be en route already, and their head chef is on a train headed across the city, and the restaurant can’t risk getting a bad review from someone as influential as Oikawa is.

He’s been wondering what he can do to help Iwaizumi out around the restaurant, and it turns out that the answer isn’t one he particularly likes. Because now he’s the one in charge of overseeing Oikawa’s whole dining experience, and he doesn’t know if he can manage that.

Sometimes, he reflects, he really wishes he could be more like Kunimi.

"Have you had the chance to come here before?” Yahaba asks.

The restaurant looks sleek and modern from the outside, a three-story, glass-and-chrome affair with floor-to-ceiling windows, all amidst the bustling traffic and neon of Shibuya. It’s designed for young urban professionals with money to burn. Yahaba supposes he and Oikawa fit into that category.

From the articles he’s read about the place online, Yahaba gathers that it’s supposed to be a trendier alternative to Iwaizumi’s first culinary venture, Aoba Johsai. Even the name - Seijoh - is derived from the name “Aoba Johsai” itself.

“Haven’t had time,” Oikawa says. “But come on, we’re here now.”

The inside is much of the same: gleaming metal and glass. There’s ample floor space between each square table, and lighting has been rigged so as to afford each dining party a veneer of privacy. Waiters in chic all-black outfits travel to and from the kitchen, carrying large metal trays. The air is alight with laughter and chatter.

Oikawa steps up to a short young man standing behind the host station, with close-clipped gray hair and a pleasant expression. “Reservation for Oikawa for six o’clock.”

The man nods. “Of course. Please, follow me."

They’re brought to a table on the second floor along one of the windowed walls, with perfect view of the city outside. Not seconds after the host takes his leave, a waiter stops by their table. Tall, with spiky hair sticking up in a point, and a nervous edge to his smile. He fills their glasses with water. “Hello,” he says. “Um, my name is Kindaichi, and I’ll be serving you tonight. What can I get you?”

“What does chef Iwaizumi recommend?” Oikawa asks with a mischievous grin.

The poor guy stutters for words for a moment. “Um - we’re very sorry - head chef Iwaizumi isn’t here at the moment.”

The smile is wiped off Oikawa’s face. “Oh?”

“There was a - situation - at his other establishment. He was needed there. But! We, uh, have a great crew in-house tonight, and we promise you won’t notice any difference."

Yahaba is sure that statement would be true for anyone who isn’t Oikawa. He winces as his boss pastes on a superficial smile and waves Kindaichi off with clipped “Surprise us!”

When he’s gone, Oikawa cradles his face in his hands and sighs. “I can’t believe Iwa-chan didn’t tell me he was leaving!” he whines.

“He was probably too busy,” Yahaba says. “It sounded like an emergency. Besides, we would have had to come out anyway.”

“Yeah, but at least I wouldn’t have gotten my hopes up.”

He sulks for a beat longer, then grabs a pen and notepad out of the satchel he carries with him. He flips it open and starts to write.

“What are you doing?” Yahaba asks.

“Writing a strongly worded complaint to the management here,” Oikawa says. “The audacity! How dare he leave his doting boyfriend in the dark like that, right?”

Yahaba mentally prepares himself for a long evening. “Right.”

When Kindaichi returns with their first course - a rich, brothy fish soup - Oikawa folds the note and hands it over. Kindaichi takes it, brow scrunching in mild concern, and scurries off.

_Iwa-chan,_

_Shame on you for not being there tonight and forcing me to make Kindaichi deliver this to you! Although it was kind of funny how red he got. I think he thought I was actually complaining about the service._

_Don’t underestimate me, though! I_ will _complain if you’re not back the next time I come around, and I’ll give you a bad review and nobody would even blame me for it. I mean, what kind of a brute leaves his poor boyfriend all alone in his own restaurant?_

 _Try not to stress out too much, okay? Whatever it is, you can handle it. I love you._ _❤_

_Oikawa_

* * *

Iwaizumi-san is back a few days later. Apparently a shipment of seasonal fruits was never delivered to Aoba Johsai, so he had to make last-minute changes to the menu before guests started arriving for lunch.

Kindaichi doesn’t know what Iwaizumi thought of Oikawa’s note; he left it unopened in the middle of his desk. Even if it was horrible, he hopes they get the chance to make it up to Oikawa. The food critic never makes a judgement before he visits a restaurant at least three times, and he holds another reservation for tonight.

From what he can tell, though, Iwaizumi doesn’t seem worried about it. In fact, he’s been more cheerful today than he has for weeks - Kindaichi even caught him humming under his breath earlier while he was chopping vegetables.

Why is Iwaizumi’s reaction to Oikawa Tooru, of all people, so unlike what anyone would expect it to be?

Maybe Kunimi would know. He’s been working under Iwaizumi in some capacity or another since high school, since Aoba Johsai first opened its doors five years ago.

“Hey, Kunimi,” Kindaichi says.

“Hmm,” Kunimi replies. Which, well, is as good as Kindaichi will probably get from him.

“Do Iwaizumi-san and Oikawa-san know each other?” he asks. “Somehow?”

Kunimi lifts his head from where he’s been pretending to work by reshuffling the stack of menus. “Oikawa-san?” He pauses to think. “I guess he came by a few times to review Iwaizumi-san’s first restaurant when it opened.”

“Is that why Iwaizumi-san isn’t impressed by him?” Kindaichi wonders aloud. “Because he’s been through it all before?”

“Maybe. He wasn’t that impressed the first time around either, though.”

“Huh. D’you know why?”

“How would I know?”

He returns his attention to the menus, and Kindaichi is prevented from thinking about the matter further when a nearby couple calls for a waiter.

Yahaba grumbles to himself as he trudges down the street alone, hands jammed into his pockets for protection against the cold. Tokyo was hit with a surprise cold spell earlier that day, and Yahaba was caught unprepared without coat or hat. He’d thought it was ludicrous to take either of those articles with him to work, considering it’s the middle of summer, but the weather just loves to prove him wrong.

At least Oikawa-san isn’t here to suffer with him, he thinks. The man hates being cold; he would whine Yahaba’s ears off during the entire walk to Seijoh.

Instead, he’s back at the heated office, having been called into a last-minute meeting of all the full-time writers. Sawamura wanted to go over the budget again, to get ideas on how to improve circulation. Yahaba wonders if today is the day that Kuroo and Kenma finally convince him to move the paper online.

Oikawa was sorely disappointed, but he nevertheless clapped Yahaba on the back and sent him off to dinner on his own, with reassurances of “You’ll be fine, I taught you well” and “Think of it as practice for when you get your own column!”

So Yahaba is here, offering his apologies to the host - whose name, he learns, is Watari.

“My apologies on Oikawa-san’s behalf,” he says. “He would really have liked to be here. We’re sorry that you wasted the effort you put into preparing for his arrival.”

Watari waves him off. “It’s not a waste at all if you’re here! Come on, take a seat.”

He’s led to the same spot as last time, and sure enough, he sees Kindaichi making his way over to the table.

The waiter appears surprised to see Yahaba alone. “Is it just you?” he asks blankly. Then he flushes and backtracks. “I mean, not that that’s a problem! Just, um - Oikawa-san isn’t here today?”

“Emergency meeting,” Yahaba says. “I’m sorry about that.

“No problem!” he says. “Er, so Iwaizumi-san had a special menu prepared for him - would that be okay with you? Or would you like to order for yourself?”

“That sounds fine,” Yahaba says. “Oh, and speaking of Iwaizumi-san, will you give this to him? It’s from Oikawa.”

He passes over another folded note, this one hastily scribbled on one of their break room napkins mere seconds before Sawamura called the meeting to order.

“Sure,” Kindaichi says. “I’ll be right back with your food.”

“Thank you,” Yahaba says, and watches as he pockets the note and takes the stairs back down to the kitchen.

_Iwa-chan,_

_Ha ha, look at me, teasing you for skipping out on our date last time and doing the same thing to you now. Dai-chan is really making me want to tear my hair out, and that would be such a shame. My beautiful hair!_

_You would still love me if I went bald early, right? You’d better. Anyway, please take care of Yahaba-chan for me. He and his coffee runs are the only things keeping me sane right now without you._

_Fingers crossed that Dai-chan lets us out early! If he does, I’ll go straight home and order takeout and maybe run a bath for us. And we can cuddle on the couch together and watch that movie we were planning to see last week. How does that sound?_

_We’ll get through this, won’t we?_

_I love you._ _❤_

_Oikawa_

* * *

It’s not until he sees Iwaizumi-san reading the letter that Kindaichi puts the pieces together. He’s not the most perceptive when it comes to feelings - out of all his coworkers, only Kyoutani is worse, and the jury’s still out on whether he experiences any emotion other than anger in the first place - but this… this is fairly obvious.

It’s in the way Iwaizumi reads and rereads every line like he’s trying to imprint them in his mind. It’s in the small, satisfied smile that creeps onto his face in place of his usual concentrated frown. And on top of that, his entire bearing softens in the presence of Oikawa’s words, and it’s as though years of stress fall from his shoulders like melting snow.

And as far as these things go, the idea isn’t so unthinkable. Oikawa is a famous gourmand. Seijoh, not to mention Aoba Johsai, is a well-known hotspot for gourmet Japanese food, and Iwaizumi has been interviewed for quite a few publications on account of his success. It would be weirder if neither of them had ever heard of each other than if they had.

And they’re both young and successful and - Kindaichi’s face heats up - rather attractive, at that. No wonder.

Iwaizumi-san _likes_ Oikawa-san. Maybe has for some time now.

The way Oikawa makes him smile now is similar to the way those bento boxes made him smile back then. He wonders if Oikawa is what Iwaizumi needs, if Oikawa will make him forget about the ex-girlfriend who stopped packing him his daily lunches.

It’s that thought that compels him, after closing time, to form the beginnings of a plan.

Kindaichi isn’t much of a meddler. He’s never invested this much time and effort into someone else’s affairs before. So if he’s serious about helping Iwaizumi and Oikawa get together now, he’s going to need to bring in the big guns.

“Hanamaki-san, Matsukawa-san,” Kindaichi says, bowing politely to the pastry and sous chef. “Do you have a minute?”

“Kindaichi!” Hanamaki says. “We always have time for our favorite turnip-head. Whaddya need?”

“I was wondering if I could ask a favor,” Kindaichi says. “You know how Oikawa-san has been coming for dinner?”

“Him?” Matsukawa asks. “What about him?”

“Um. I was… I’ve been waiting on him, like Watari asked, and -” He can’t help that he starts to grow flustered, gaze turning skittish. It’s an odd request to start with, and he doesn’t want the chefs to laugh at him.

“Oh?” Matsukawa asks, peering down at him. “What’s this?”

“Don’t tell me you have a crush on that bastard.” Hanamaki groans. “As if he doesn’t get enough crazy admirers on his own.”

“What?” Kindaichi squeaks. “N - no! It’s nothing like that. It’s just… he and Iwaizumi-san seem to get along, don’t they?”

Hanamaki, then, gets the strangest gleam in his eye. He taps one finger against his chin in exaggerated thought. “I suppose they do. Sharp eye there, Kindaichi.”

Matsukawa frowns. “Well, that’s probably because -”

He shuts up with a grunt when Hanamaki elbows him in the side. They enter a silent staring contest of sorts that lasts several seconds. Then Matsukawa seems to catch on to whatever it is Hanamaki is trying to communicate because he nods, and his mouth curls up in a lazy grin. Kindaichi has never felt more lost.

“Right,” Matsukawa says. “Iwaizumi. Oikawa. You wanna set them up?”

Kindaichi nods, happy that things are back on track. “Yes! Iwaizumi has been under a lot of pressure, hasn’t he? I think it would help.”

“What a thoughtful kid,” Matsukawa says.

“We raised him well,” Hanamaki agrees, wiping away a fake tear. He claps his hands together. “Okay. Since it’s for our dear boss, we’re in. Just tell us what you need.”

One thing does stand out.

“Do you know how to get in contact with Oikawa-san’s office, by any chance?” Kindaichi asks.

“Hello,” Yahaba says, picking up the phone. “Yahaba Shigeru, Karasuno Daily News, food and entertainment department. How can I help you?”

“Hi. Is Oikawa there?”

Yahaba glances over into Oikawa’s office. He’s in his chair, feet propped up on the desk, bottom lip pushed out into a pout as he types something out on his phone.

“He’s here. May I ask who’s speaking?”

“Oh, right. Um, this is Kindaichi Yuutarou. From Seijoh.”

“Ah, of course. All right, give me a moment, and I’ll pass the line along to him -”

“Wait! Uh, actually, if you could not tell him about this? That would be great?”

Yahaba relaxes back into his seat, interest piqued. “What’s this about?”

“On behalf of the restaurant staff, we would like to invite Oikawa-san back for a special dining experience. Based on his availability, of course.”

Huh. A special dining experience? He supposes that can be arranged -

Yahaba glances at the calendar on his desk and realizes immediately what it is that Kindaichi must be getting at. Two days from now marks Iwaizumi and Oikawa’s fourth anniversary. Iwaizumi must be planning something special for them at his restaurant. Which is great, because if Yahaba has to hear Oikawa bitch about having to work on his anniversary one more time, he might be tempted to send in his two weeks’ notice.

“Is Saturday evening all right?” Yahaba asks. “Our usual time at six?”

“For sure!” Kindaichi says. He sounds relieved.

“Great. Please let me know if I can be of assistance in any other way.”

“Oh - um, one thing. What’s Oikawa-san’s favorite food?”

Strange that Kindaichi has to ask that. Shouldn’t Iwaizumi already know? But maybe he’s just overthinking things. In any case, Yahaba stays on the line for a few minutes longer to help Kindaichi plan out a menu that he’s sure Oikawa will love.

After they end the call, Yahaba pencils the dinner in on the calendar. He sneaks another peek into the office. This time, his boss’s carefree demeanor is nowhere to be found. Oikawa is glaring hard at his computer screen, shouting something indisctinct into the phone pressed to his ear, lips moving too fast to follow. A twinge of sympathy strikes Yahaba’s chest. A break would be good for him. Iwaizumi will be good for him.

**You:** iwa-channnn o(TヘTo)

 **You:** life is so unfair!! no one should have to work on their anniversary

 **You:** i mean, dai-chan’s really been worried about the budget so we all have to work harder to make up for it

 **You:** but what’s your excuse?? you’re your own boss!!

 **You:** kidding, kidding, you know i’m proud of you

 **You:** you’re probably busy, but call me when you finish closing up. i’m staying late tonight and i can’t make yahaba-chan stay with me, so having your voice there as company would be nice

 **You:** i love you _❤_

* * *

“Matsukawa,” Iwaizumi says, “why have guests stopped coming in? We don’t close for another six hours.”

The clock reads thirty minutes past five. Kindaichi knows this, even without looking, because he’s been checking it obsessively all day.

Watari was tasked with distracting Iwaizumi while the other cooks prepared Oikawa’s carefully selected menu. He did an admirable job of it by dragging Iwaizumi out onto the dining room floor to greet his guests. _It’s polite to show the diners you care about them, Iwaizumi-san,_ he’d said, and Watari is so nice and helpful the rest of the time that not even Iwaizumi can deny him when he asks for something.

The downside is that Iwaizumi was out with his guests all evening, which means he’d noticed when they stopped trickling in.

“We closed half an hour ago,” Matsukawa says. “Well, except for reservations.” Those had been made weeks in advance, and it would be unfair to cancel them. They’ve made sure to close off the balcony, though, and Kindaichi is certain the other chefs can handle all the cooking for the night. Which leaves Iwaizumi free, just as they planned.

“What?” Iwaizumi asks. “Why wasn’t I informed of this? I’m the _owner_.”

“C’mon, ‘Zumi,” Hanamaki says from across the room. He’s busy kneading the dough for milk bread, something that’s never on the usual menu. “Have a little faith in your sous chef.”

“Definitely not,” Iwaizumi says. “What are you two up to?”

Hanamaki and Matsukawa, in lieu of providing an answer, shoot each other conspiratorial smirks. Kyoutani grumbles something intelligible, but he’s expertly slicing the pork cutlet that will be used to make Oikawa’s favorite tonkotsu ramen.

Kindaichi smiles and ducks out into the dining room to check on the others. Quite a few tables are occupied, but many of their occupants look like they’re almost ready to be handed their bills. The remainder should be no problem for Matsukawa to manage alone.

Watari is at his station as usual, megawatt smile fixed in place.

Kindaichi climbs up the stairs to the top floor. Kunimi had been tasked with decorating the balcony, and Kindaichi lets out a breath of relief when he sees it. For once, at least, Kunimi hasn’t shirked his duties. It’s perfect.

There’s no turning back now. The guest of honor is already on his way, if Yahaba’s texts are to be believed, and they don’t have time to take everything down before then. Kindaichi shakes with nerves. He resists the urge to bite his fingernails.

He hopes he’s read everything right. Because if Iwaizumi doesn’t actually feel anything for Oikawa - or, worse, if it’s the other way around - he doesn’t know what he’ll do. He might get fired. Is it legal to fire someone for this sort of thing?

“What the fuck are you guys doing?” Iwaizumi’s voice comes from behind him.

Matsukawa and Hanamaki have grabbed his shoulders on either side and are steering him outside, where his table awaits. He hasn’t changed out of his double-breasted chef’s jacket. Kindaichi couldn’t figure out how to convince him to do so without raising his suspicions, but at least it looks clean.

Hanamaki winks at him, and Kindaichi takes comfort in that. At least Hanamaki - and Matsukawa, and Yahaba, come to think of it - don’t seem to have any hangups about what they’re doing.

Before he can work himself up any further, Kindaichi hears the tinny clinking sound of the electric chime attached to the door, used to signal entry to Seijoh.

Ah. It’s showtime.

“You’re acting weird, Yahaba-chan,” Oikawa comments.

Yahaba hums and pushes the door open. He watches Oikawa take in the space with a raised brow. “Not many people here. Should I be concerned?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Yahaba says.

Watari greets them as soon as they enter, with a amicable, “Follow me, please.”

Rather than their usual table, he leads them up two flights of stairs and to another door, which opens to reveal an outdoor seating area. Oikawa stops in his tracks when he sees it, and Yahaba is inclined to agree, even though he was expecting something of the sort.

The entire railing is strung up with Christmas lights that bathe the area in a gentle golden glow. Most of the furniture has been cleared away, leaving one table in the center to overlook the bright lights of the city. It’s been draped with a stark white tablecloth and set with a vase of fresh lilies.

And standing beside the table - in the near-silence, Yahaba hears Oikawa’s small intake of breath.

Iwaizumi is there, face slack in surprised delight as he stares in Oikawa’s direction. Two taller chefs flank him, and they wear matching, shark-like smiles. Kindaichi is by himself off to the side, hands picking awkwardly at his apron.

Watari and Yahaba step aside, and Oikawa steps forward. “Iwa-chan?” he asks. “Did you do all this?”

“I didn’t - Oikawa? What the fuck?”

He swivels his head around, and one of the other chefs, the pink-haired one, lets out a small giggle. “Nah. Iwaizumi’s way too dense for that. It was all Kindaichi’s idea.”

Kindaichi shrinks into himself when everyone turns to face him. “Um,” he says. “I - I just wanted to do something nice for Iwaizumi-san.”

“You -” Iwaizumi swallows, tries again. He breaks into a wide smile. “Thanks, Kindaichi. This is amazing.”

Yahaba watches as Iwaizumi and Oikawa meet in the middle and fall together, two puzzle pieces each carved to fit the lines of the other. He smiles in spite of himself because, well. Oikawa isn’t the worst person to work under, and he’s glad to see him happy.

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa mumbles. “Happy anniversary.”

“Happy -”

_“Anniversary?”_

Kindaichi draws everyone’s attention for the second time with the outburst. “I - you guys - ? _Anniversary?_ Since when? You’re dating?”

Immediately, the tall chefs burst into synchronized laughter, bending over and clutching at each other for support.

“Oh my _god,_ Kindaichi, your face -”

“I was going to tell you,” the black-haired one says between wheezes, “but it was way too funny. I can’t believe you didn’t _know_.”

“What the fuck?” Iwaizumi asks.

“You _guys!_ You’re ruining our moment!” Oikawa says.

“You’re dating?” Kindaichi repeats, eyes wide.

“We’ve been dating for four years,” Oikawa says. Yahaba rolls his eyes - he’s heard this before. “I went in to write a piece on Aoba Johsai, except the only beef I could focus on was this.” He squeezes Iwaizumi’s bicep for emphasis and makes a pleased sound.

“Oh my god, Shittykawa,” Iwaizumi says.

“You love me.”

“Don’t push it. I’m only with you for the five star reviews.”

“How rude!”

Yahaba, during this exchange, has kept an eye on Kindaichi, who looks more confused than he did before Oikawa started talking.

Taking pity on the guy, he places a hand on Kindaichi’s upper arm. “Are you all right there?” he asks, voice pitched low.

“But the bento boxes -” Kindaichi says pitifully. “That was Oikawa-san?”

“I don’t know. I guess?” Yahaba says. “I mean, he used to prepare lunch for both of them in the mornings. He’s been getting too busy to keep it up.”

Kindaichi buries his face in his hands, but not before Yahaba catches a glimpse of the slow, embarrassed realization dawning over him. “Oh my god. I can’t - I didn’t even notice.”

Yahaba pats him on the back, feeling a little out of his element. “Whether you noticed or not, what you did means a lot to them.” And, sure enough, Oikawa and Iwaizumi are still wrapped up in each other. “Thank you.”

Kindaichi nods, too mortified to speak.

Watari clears his throat. “Uh, if everyone’s done, dinner isn’t over. Could we get back to work?”

After taking a moment to gather themselves, the Aoba Johsai employees file out. Yahaba, with nothing better to do, trails after them. Maybe he can use the opportunity to learn more about how a restaurant is run - it’ll be good background for when he gets his own column, like Oikawa said.

* * *

Eventually, once they’ve held each other long enough to make up for the months of absence, they take their seats. Kunimi comes around to bring them their meals, and while they eat, they keep their hands clasped on top of the table. It’s nice, Iwaizumi thinks, to have the touch there to ground him. Three months may be nothing to four years, but they’ve seemed like so much longer. He wants to take every chance he can to touch Oikawa now.

“Oh, by the way,” Oikawa says, “I finished typing up the first draft of my review for Seijoh. Wanna see?”

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes, but he kind of does want to know what Oikawa thinks. Oikawa must pick up on that, because he grins and holds his phone out for Iwaizumi to read.

As his eyes scan over the lines of kanji, Iwaizumi grows progressively more horrified. The whole thing is absurd, every bit as ridiculous as the man Iwaizumi loves, and it’s not fit for publication in the least. “You can’t be serious, Trashykawa,” he says.

The gleam in Oikawa’s eye says otherwise. “Oh, but I am. And you can’t stop me.”

Iwaizumi scowls and swipes for the phone. Oikawa manages to pull it out of his reach at the last second. “Try me."

In a flash, Oikawa is out of his seat. “Gonna have to catch me first, Iwa-chan!”

What can he say? Oikawa has always been good at rousing the competitive spirit in him. He follows suit, chasing Oikawa around the balcony until the sound of traffic below them is inaudible over the sound of their laughter.

Oikawa is slippery, but soon Iwaizumi has him trapped against a corner of the steel railing. Oikawa gulps as Iwaizumi approaches, slow.

“I’ve got you,” Iwaizumi says. “Give it up.”

“Never!” Oikawa unlocks his phone and taps on the screen a few times, then flashes it at Iwaizumi with a triumphant grin. “There - sent straight to Dai-chan’s desk. I’m sure he’ll be happy with this one - mmph!”

Iwaizumi closes the gap between them and seizes Oikawa around the waist with one arm. Oikawa laughs and pushes lightly on Iwaizumi’s shoulders. “Ah, Iwa-chan, you should treat me more gently. But what can I expect from such a gorilla?”

His eyes are shining with humor, and the neon lights around them cast brilliant blue-pink-green shadows over the angles of his face. He’s everything Iwaizumi wants.

So Iwaizumi pushes Oikawa’s body up against the railing and kisses him. He tastes Oikawa’s smile against his mouth, relishes the way Oikawa’s arms slide around his neck and lock together.

He pours all the weight of his longing into the kiss: nights when he fell asleep waiting for Oikawa to come home, mornings when he woke up to an empty bed and a heart-shaped sticky note on the mirror, the days he would read Oikawa’s section in the papers just to imagine his voice.

Oikawa must know, because he presses their bodies together harder, crushes their mouths together until it starts to hurt. Iwaizumi doesn’t mind.

They kiss until they’re senseless, punch-drunk on love, and then they kiss longer. By the time they break apart, Oikawa’s lips are bitten red, and his breathing comes in heavy pants.

“Welcome home, Hajime,” he says.

Iwaizumi never wants to leave again.

_Nestled in the dazzling heart of Shibuya City, Seijoh is an unapologetically modern gourmet experience that promises an authentic Japanese taste coupled with 21st-century flavors and techniques. They delivered on that promise, but when I entered, it wasn’t the minimalistic metal decor or the mouthwatering fragrances that first caught my attention - it was the incredibly handsome head chef and owner, Iwaizumi Hajime._

_Dear reader, this is the first time I’ve wished for any one of the restaurants I visit to have_ less _rigorous standards of public health. What I wouldn’t give to see chef Iwaizumi cooking in a tank top - or, perhaps, in nothing at all - instead of that frumpy jacket that hides all his delicious muscles! What I wouldn’t give to watch his forearms flex as he whisks the egg whites for Seijoh’s specialty meringues! Unfortunately, the employees’ dress code, as with their service, is impeccable._

_If the delicious tonkotsu ramen and curry rice don’t convince you to give this place a try, then chef Iwaizumi’s sheer competence in the kitchen certainly should. Just imagine those dexterous fingers slicing through scallions and carrots and cucumbers. Imagine him barking orders at his staff in that deep, manly voice of his._

_Luckily, I don’t have to imagine. But you, dear reader, do, and for that, I pity you._

_Chef Iwaizumi, allow me to commend you for running such a fine establishment. It is one that I will be returning to many times in the future. (And when I do, you should feel free to order me around as much as you want.)_

_More than anything, the chef has an incredible knack for creating an atmosphere that makes his guests feel welcome. He, his waiters, and host Watari are always kind and courteous to the utmost. I, for one, felt like I was coming home after a long while gone._

_And with that, I declare Seijoh an Oikawa Tooru-approved restaurant, scoring five out of five stars._

_Next week, check back in for a special edition of Grand King Critic, where I will be compiling a list of the best coffee places in Tokyo!_

_XOXO,_

_Oikawa Tooru_

**Author's Note:**

> u know what i love more than established relationship iwaoi?? established relationship iwaoi where the other characters don’t know and are trying to get them together ahaha.
> 
> anyway, myrin, i hope this satisfied your wishes!! and i hope the rest of you enjoyed as well!!
> 
> leave a comment & let me know what you thought, or request something of your own over on [my tumblr.](https://thelittlebirdthattoldyou.tumblr.com/)


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